


Jem’s Quarter Life Crisis

by sleepy_sendhelp



Series: Herongraystairs <3 [1]
Category: The Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Boys In Love, Kinda?, M/M, Mild Swearing, bartender! jem, meet cute, well they’re about to be anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25003225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepy_sendhelp/pseuds/sleepy_sendhelp
Summary: Jem is a bartender. He drinks in solitude in the staff room, except, he’s not really alone.a bit ooc, and involves a lot of monologuing and backstory esp for a oneshot. oh well.
Relationships: Jem Carstairs/Will Herondale
Series: Herongraystairs <3 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1810132
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	Jem’s Quarter Life Crisis

**Author's Note:**

> warning: I have no idea how real life works, this is me attempting to get over my (??)- year writer’s block HAHAHA im rusty af

Were there rules against employees sneaking off to the staff room and attempting to drain one of the expensive bottles from the top shelf? 

Maybe. 

It was half an hour before his shift at the bar ended. Usually, when people think of bars, they’d think of loud music and sweaty bodies, dirty floors and dark corners where people did questionable things under the influence of overflowing alcoholic drinks. 

Jem was prepared to deal with all of the chaos working as a bartender would entail. On his first day, he armed himself with ear and nose plugs, and everything else he thought he might need to survive the night. What he wasn’t prepared for, however, was pulling up in front of a fancy rich people ‘bar’ that was the complete opposite of what he thought he was getting into when Tessa swiped his résumé and exclaimed that she “knew just the place”. 

When they met for brunch the day after, it turned out that she knew the owner through Jessamine, her on again, off again, girl- friend with benefits. It was hard to keep track of their relationship these days but it wasn’t like Jem was trying. Apparently the owner was someone their age, and was a family friend of the Lovelaces. Jem wasn’t sure why someone who runs a prestigious, high class (?), bar would want to hire a fresh graduate who has absolutely zero work experience but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth, especially when he had been desperately looking for a job so the Branwells — who had adopted him at twelve years old when he turned out to be the sole survivor of the car accident that left him orphaned — didn’t think he was trying to overstay his welcome at their home. (everyone who knows the Branwells know that they’re basically angels on earth, the thought wouldn’t cross any of their minds in a million years. But still.) 

The pay was generous, which allowed Jem to afford a flat and a car in the richer parts of the city after two years of diligent work and putting up with bratty trustfund babies who sneered at, or barely acknowledged the existence of people outside their circle. Not to mention the higher ups from the staff who thought they held a candle to the type of people who frequented the establishment by the way they look at and talk to the rest of the working crew. Jem didn’t mind all that much to be honest. He was just grateful for a stable job and a comfortable life. 

Which begs the question, in almost four years of working in the bar without any incident to taint his record, why was James Carstairs slumped on the floor of the staff room with a sort of stolen — not really, who cares about details? — bottle of wine and a blank look in his otherwise warm eyes? Quarter life crisis? He can’t come up with an answer to save his life. 

He probably should though, if he was going to go by the looks he was recieving from the handsome stranger sitting across him who was sporting his own bottle of expensive liquor. Jem thought he seemed familiar, he wasn’t drunk enough to be spacing out and forgetting faces — far from it really, but even without a name to the gorgeous face, Jem couldn’t help thinking that the man in front of him (and what a man indeed) seemed to be very important. And that Jem probably needed to get his shit together. 

—-

With every passing second, it became clearer to Will that the tall, dark, and very beguiling creature sitting across from him wasn’t going to start speaking anytime soon. He took another swig from the bottle he was nursing and cleared his throat. 

“Hello there” 

The man remained silent. Will was getting bored. The whole silent and brooding thing he got going on earlier was attractive but now he wanted to talk, and the unchanging blank gaze from the other man was starting to annoy him. He was about to speak again when it seems that the stranger — James, his nametag reads — finally gets a hold of himself and replies

“Hello” 

They stare at each other for a while. It was a bit boring, but this was better than dealing with Benedict and his daughter Tatiana outside, who insist on partnership deals and never takes no for an answer just because they couldn’t keep their half of the family business afloat, while the Lightwood brothers were flourishing in the business scene. (Will would never say it out loud, or even allude to it — especially in front of Gabriel Lightwood, ugh — but he was proud of those idiots for rising above their family’s bad reputation in the industry and making a name for themselves). 

Will prepares himself to wait for a very long time, since James doesn’t seem to plan on speaking anytime soon. He was just getting as settled as one could be on cold tile when his companion decides to come to life. It was almost comical, the way James’ eyes widened as he sat up straight and the slight flush on his cheeks grew darker than they were moments ago. 

“I don’t usually do this, I’m not a slacker I swear. I don’t even know what possessed me to do this, my shift ended 10 minutes ago. Please, please don’t tell Starkweather.” he pleaded

The quick change in his demeanor startled Will, but he was more taken aback by—

“Aloysius?”

“yeah, Aloysius Starkweather.” 

Will’s confusion doubled. Why was James afraid of being caught by the supervisor when he was right here? Unless... 

“What about him?” This conversation is turning out to be mildly interesting for Will. James is proving to be quite a naive employee. Will didn’t mind, but he’s definitely going to try and get something out of this. 

“Well, I’ve been here for almost four years and I’ve never had any incidents before. Starkweather does his best to find any minor flaw to point out just so he has something to do before he retires, but he hasn’t been able to catch me doing anything wrong yet. It’s not really a game or a competition except I kind of feel like it is—“ and thus starts the long and winded tale of work hierarchy and relations. 

It shouldn’t have taken James almost a whole hour to expose every one of his coworkers and fail to hold back his less than pleasant sentiments regarding the people he’s been working with for almost half a decade, but it does. Will can’t tell if it’s because James is naturally talkative, or if it’s the alcohol working wonders, but he’s thankful nonetheless for the incessant babble that fills the space between them. He didn’t mean to hang on to every word that the other man spoke but he couldn’t help himself. Soon he knows that Bridget sings murder lullabies while she cooks, that Thomas was learning martial arts and he practices in between washing dishes when he thinks no one can see him, that Sophie is one of the sweetest woman alive but always looks unintentionally murderous when she has a knife in her hand, and other mundane things that he doesn’t really care about, but he kind of wants to start because it seems important to James if he cared to store all those details. 

Will has heard that having... relations, with your employee isn’t advisable. Will also doesn’t give two flying fucks about what others might think. Not when James looks utterly delectable with his bright eyes, flushed cheeks, and unruly dark hair under the harsh fluorescent lights. 

He belatedly realizes that James is looking at him expectedly, as if waiting for a reply. He feels his skin warm up at the thought of seeming bored but he hopes his tanned skin hides his blush well. 

“Pardon?” 

James simply chuckles. 

“I asked for your name. I realize that I’ve been ranting for the past hour and we haven’t even been properly introduced. You can call me Jem.” he had the decency to look bashful. 

fucking. adorable. 

“The name’s Will. Will Heronadale.” he waits for the realization to sink in, but it never even makes an appearance. Does Jem live under a rock? Will leans in, and inspects him closer, as if he really can’t believe that Jem hasn’t realized by now that he’s been rambling to his boss. 

They hold each other’s gaze for way too long, from a staring contest bordering on to something... magical. An understanding seems to pass through them. Will decides to throw caution to the wind, makes sure Jem is sober enough to consent to going back with him to his place tonight, and calls his chauffeur.

**Author's Note:**

> idek what that was supposed to be, i just know that the ending sucked bUT! im a bit lonely this quarantine so comments are appreciated and encouraged!


End file.
